Wendy's Dream
by letitgo0
Summary: I wrote this a long time ago; takes place after Henry visits Wendy in her cage. One-shot.


Wendy Darling – Neverland

"_I'll come back for you, I promise!"_

Henry's words echoed in her head continuously as she skittered down the narrow path, thorns scraping at her legs. Every step she took had her wincing in pain. Her hands' raw flesh was exposed to the gusty air above, for she had torn Pan's cage apart—the one she was locked in for centuries.

Pan had pulled the last straw on her when he made her lie to Henry about being sick just to play his stupid little game of manipulation. How she had wanted to warn Henry of what he was capable of—how she had wanted to tell him the truth. And this was her chance to do so, and to see her brothers again: John and Michael.

She had escaped.

When she recalled the feeling of blood gushing down her skin as she forcibly banged herself so many times against that rackety, blasted cage—she could feel the stinging pain over again. But all that mattered was she had run far enough across the island to escape the Lost Boys—or so she thought.

"Wendy Darling, I don't suppose you've escaped me quite yet."

She spun around in the direction the voice was—but there was nothing there. Pan must be playing with her mind in order to slow her down, surely.

She let out a great huff and began to embark back on the pathway into the direction Henry was. Her feet crinkled against the dead leaves on the ground, producing somewhat of a noise. A deep, handsome chuckle sounded from the same voice—he was mocking her.

"Get out of my head, Peter," she scoffed at the very thought of him. His eyes so full of hate and lust pierced through her soul, and she tried to concentrate on Henry. But he wouldn't get out of her head. "Don't make me insane now!"

"No one is making you insane but yourself, love," a cold hand placed itself on her shoulder, the callused texture laid upon her delicate skin. Her blood ran cold, and seemingly all of her veins had stopped rushing.

He really was here. His physical presence had proved enough. It seemed that no matter how much she would've tried to be a hero, or fight for what she cared for, he always knew. He knew every single thing about her.

"Please," she shivered.

"Ah, you deliberately disobeyed me, Wendy," Pan's eyes darkened, and she gulped. No more nicknames and fun now—it was time she was to be led back to her imprisonment.

A beady tear slipped out of her eye onto her cheek, flushed red by the sharp wind—the tree branches whistling to its rhythm, oddly reminding her of his musical pipe. He would play it the first few and uneasy nights she arrived here so that she would fall asleep.

"But I liked that fire in your eyes," his seductive tone was brought on. "The fire you released when you battered yourself black and blue against that cage, just to rescue your little friend Henry."

Her heart dropped. He had known she was trying to escape all this time, and just let her go thinking she was free—till now.

"You let me go," she whimpered like a lost puppy in a kennel.

"Of course I did, love," he came closer to her, but she did not back away. There was no use. Her legs wobbled at the thought of him knowing everything she knew—every thought she thought. She was his, and he flaunted it.

He owned her.

"Why?" her lips quivered.

"You know why," he grabbed her chin at last and cupped it in between his fingers. "Just all for the fun of seeing you succeed—then fail. That way an idea might cross your head that you can never defeat me."

She hesitated to move, and just stood there as he enjoyed every ounce of her suffering. She let his prying eyes devour all her pretty features, and she let him trace his finger across her blushed cheek. And she hated herself for not being strong to him.

"My, you're a pretty one, aren't you," Pan smirked. She was now taken aback, with all these thoughts clouding her mind of why he said that. Perhaps he was trying to deceive her by his charm.

"P-Peter," she let out a shaky breath. "Are you going to bring me back?"

"Why wouldn't I?" he gave an evil cackle. "I need you for this plan to win Henry over and defeat his family. Besides," his face became only centimeters apart from hers, "the game has only begun."

And with that, he crashed his lips in such a moving passion against hers, and her whole body became numb at his touch. She felt as she was falling backward, her legs giving her no support whatsoever—drifting into an abyss of colorless blurs and oceans of tears.

Then she was back in her cage, alone. She mentally slapped herself for being such a fool and giving in to everything Pan had said—she gave him quite foolish reactions. She was nothing but weak.

The night was still young, but she could still feel his taste upon her very own lips. He was gone, roaming about some other place, and she knew she had failed.

_Don't think about doing that again,_ his voice raged in her mind, and from then she knew that what had just happened was most certainly not a dream.

End


End file.
